


Vanishing Point

by Iben



Series: If all you have is a hammer [2]
Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan), Dark Knight Rises (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-20
Updated: 2016-03-20
Packaged: 2018-05-27 21:31:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6301162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iben/pseuds/Iben
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a glimpse into Bane's past. It's set about twenty years before 'If all you have is a hammer (everything looks like a nail)'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vanishing Point

They are not without discipline, these men who make their living selling guns to the highest bidder, not caring what they are going to be used for, or what cause they are going to serve. But they drink too much. They can be careless. They are intoxicated by their own power and they wallow in their greed like filth. 

Dorrance has observed this. And yet there are aspects of each of these men that are likeable. Simon has a child, a daughter, whose picture he carries on his person although he rarely speaks about her. Morgan, who is closest to Dorrance in age although still several years older, has a caring streak that manifests itself in that he makes enough coffee for everyone in the mornings. There are other things too, about the others, that Dorrance has learned during the time that he has lived with them. 

They are at a bar, even though the deal is going down tomorrow and getting drunk should be the last thing on anyone's mind. Of course, they can all hold their liquor. Even Dorrance, to a degree. He has his size to thank for that, mostly. They teased him a bit at first, for not keeping up with the rest of them, called him nicknames because of it. He doesn't care, he knows the importance of taking care of your body, treating it right. It's not complicated, you only get one. Still, he has to blend in, so he drinks. 

The front door is open to the harbor outside and the ocean beyond it looks black. Since they've been staying just a stone's throw away from here for a little over a week, Dorrance can't smell the salt and the tar on the air any longer. He finishes his drink. That's his last one for tonight. He gets up from his seat and when he does, Monica does too.

She's the only woman in the group. She's in her early to mid-thirties, her dark hair reaches just below her jawline and her skin is tanned. 

“You're heading back?” she says. 

He nods. 

“I'll go with you,” she says.

Abraham wolf-whistles but Monica ignores him. She grabs her jacket from the back of her chair. When they step outside the noises from the bar become muted. There is the soft, lapping sound of water, a few dissatisfied cries from seagulls and, in the distance, the sound of traffic. The night air is warm.

The walk to the apartment takes only a few minutes. The door to the street isn't locked and the stairwell is littered with junk. Inside the apartment it is perpetually dusky. Dorrance feels Monica's hand on his arm. 

“I'd really like to clear my head, before tomorrow,” she says. “How about you?”

He isn't unaware she's been throwing him glances, ever since he first joined the group. He hasn't done anything about it, because he didn't feel inclined to and even if he had, he wouldn't know what to do. She's much older than he is and he's here undercover.

She moves her hand to his hip. She's looking up at him. She's so close, he can almost smell her skin. The touch of her hand is feathery light and still it feels heavy. She's offering and a part of him wants to accept, because he went through high school without getting laid. Not because he didn't want to, but because taking the step from talking to a girl to somehow having sex with her seemed insurmountable and he had no idea of how to do that. He asked Erica to prom, a girl from his Spanish class, because he was expected to go, not standing out is vital, and he liked her. Still, he knew he wasn't going to lose his virginity by the end of the night. He knew her well enough to know that. It was a nice night though, she was nice, and they kissed.

He meets Monica's gaze. The others will be back soon. He can't afford to raise any suspicions. So he squashes the small part of him that doesn't want his first time to be like this, and follows her to her bedroom. 

Kissing her he can taste the liquor she's been drinking. She's unbelievably warm and her breasts are so soft under his hands. He's really nervous though, and perhaps more afraid of breaking his cover than anything else. It's almost unreal, being naked with anyone, and especially Monica. He rolls on the condom with fingers that feel as if they should be trembling.

He's not at all prepared for how good it feels, sliding into her, the heat that encloses him, the pressure, and the knowledge that he is, in fact, inside her. It's over almost before it even begins; he comes and the moment of pleasure is quickly followed by the horrifying awareness that he's made a fool out of himself. 

He doesn't know what to say. Or do. He moves away, too embarrassed to look at her. He's angry with himself.

“Hey...” she says and catches his arm when he reaches for his clothes on the floor. “Was that your first time?”

He doesn't say anything. Not only because he doesn't want to admit to her that it was, but because he has figured out that when in doubt, it almost always works for the best if you keep your mouth shut. 

“Wow... really?” she says, because his silence probably says it all. “Oh, don't go. It doesn't matter. It's okay. We can try again. You'll be good to go again in a little while, you're young.”

So he stays and when he gets hard again she rides him. That's really something. He looks at her, at her bouncing breasts, and it feels great. It's as if she's another woman than the one he's been doing gun deals with over the last months. 

The next day, at the meeting with the so-called buyers, he shoots her in the head.


End file.
